


Pool Party

by thegriffin88



Series: Handler Chronicles [6]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Best bot, Dum-E being a helpful little bot, Explosions, Gen, Handler being a bamf from behind the safety of a bulletproof bar, Handler hates Namor this is headcanon canon, He can't do jack to her when Doom's around, Huge homage to another fic, Inspired by Fanfiction, Natasha being a bamf in a bikini, Platonic Relationships, Pool Party, Work it girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegriffin88/pseuds/thegriffin88
Summary: What was supposed to be a nice, relaxing poolside get together for the Avengers and some plus 1s turns into a battle. Because nobody gets to just relax in the Marvel Universe.Includes Handler and Victor being the bestest friends and Namor getting hit in the head by a drink tray on purpose and nobody apologizing for that.





	Pool Party

                “This is so…super nice.” Handler sighed, relaxing against the bar.

                It was the quietest, laziest Avengers party she had ever been to and then some. Because Tony said she could bring a plus 1 who could bring a plus 1. Loki was off world with Thor and wouldn’t be back for at least another week, Strange was in some other portion of the multiverse and all her calls kept getting forwarded to his voicemail so she picked the very best next person: Victor von Doom. Victor took the plus 1 opportunity to cordially invite Namor, and Handler suspected that was because he knew it would piss them both off to be in the same room. Even if that same room was the entirety, well okay the lab was obviously shut off, of Tony’s rebuilt Malibu mansion. Pool and all.

                So there sat Handler, having fun in the sun in her best beach attire with Victor dressed like he always did.

                “I bet Tony’s wondering how you’re not roasting to death in there.” she chuckled.

                “Climate control.” Tony smirked as he ducked behind the bar to grab something.

                “I mean, duh!” Handler shrugged, barely able to keep from laughing but earning a chuckle from Victor.

                The sun was sinking the sky, the terrace lit by tiny colored lights strung on poles around the area. Namor was in the pool with Natasha and Pepper who seemed to be toying with him by pretending to hang on every word the Prince of Atlantis said given the way Clint would occasionally look her way and smirk. He was talking to Bucky while Steve, Sam and Bruce mingled. Rhodey was talking to Tony and there hadn’t been a single fight. Only nice, gentle mingling and conversation fueled by a neverending bar of expensive taste. Handler was chatting with her best friend in the whole world and for once it wasn’t behind the closed doors of Castle Doom. It was just so super nice.

                So having been with S.H.I.E.L.D. for so many years she should have expected the explosion.

                One second she was about to take a sip of Merlot the next second she was pressed up against the bar with her ears ringing and seeing green. Doom was shielding her with his cape and it was sparkling a little.

                “So you DID make it out of Wakanda with some Vibranium.” she said, pointing accusingly at the cape.

                “There will be time for that talk later. H.A.M.M.E.R. appears to want in on our fun.” Victor said.

                “Party poopers. Give ‘em what for!” Handler shouted before vaulting behind the bar for cover.

                But not before grabbing a pewter Champagne plate from the counter and chucking it like a discus straight at Namor’s head, beaning him really well.

                “WHAT ON-” he sputtered, turning to look.

                “I’VE BEEN TAKING LESSONS FROM STEVE!!!!” Handler sing-songed.

                “I don’t want ANY part of what you two have going on!” Steve shouted as he grabbed his shield, it was always close at hand.

                The rest of the party was suiting up as best they could, it wasn’t like Clint or Natasha came prepared to fight but they could handle themselves well enough. By now Tony and Rhodey both had their armor on and seemed to be joining Doom and Namor in the aerial fray. Handler could now see that the explosion was some sort of missile fired from one of the manned suits of armor. When it had fired one of Tony’s unmanned suits had taken the hit and scattered shrapnel everywhere which is what Victor had been shielding her from. And they say chivalry is dead.

                One of the H.A.M.M.E.R. grunts was firing repeatedly at Doom who just hovered in the air. When it seemed out of energy blasts she could almost see the smirk in his body language.

                “Are you quite done?” he asked, before returning with a much larger blast of his own.

                The grunt, stunned and without power now, dropped like a rock from 40 feet up.

                “Bucky, catch!” Handler shouted.

                Bucky, who was busy finishing off a suit by slamming its head into the floor, ran and slid to catch the falling one.

                “And he’s outta here! The crowd goes wild!” Steve laughed as he threw his shield.

                It ping-ponged off three of the bots but didn’t seem to do more than rattle the people inside them.

                “At least it looked cool!” Handler called with a shrug.

                But War Machine, Falcon and Iron Man were on those three a second later. Dum-E had brought Clint his bow and Nat was busy securing the H.A.M.M.E.R. men on the ground, dressed in the most fetching bikini. Typical Nat.

                War Machine managed to rip the wing off one of the grunts but he pulled away, spiraling down in a trail of smoke and sparks.

                “I shall retrieve him!” Namor called as if it were a chore.

                “You best not kill him Twinkle-Toes!” Handler barked as Namor disappeared down past the elevation of the terrace.

                Doom was lowering a mangled suit of armor to the rest of the unconscious heap when a blast hit him in the left side, causing him to lose whatever levitation spell he had been holding and the armor to drop a good 10 feet to the ground with a loud crunch.

                “COWARD!” Doom thundered.

                Handler had never seen him use whatever spell he was using next but it caused the suit to flail around violently, sparking and hissing before going completely limp. Almost disdainfully, Doom levitated it over to the rest of the pile.

                “That was…that was…” Tony stammered.

                “Hell’s Bell’s Doom you couldn’t have done that before?” Rhodey shouted.

                “No. You were both in too close quarters and it would have affected your suits as well.” Doom shook his head.

                “Right…” Tony said, looking to the mangled suit on top of the pile. “Uh is this…is this guy dead?”

                “No.” He landed beside Tony, a few seconds before Rhodey. “The pilot is alive. Perhaps a bit worse for wear, but alive.” he stepped out of the way as Pepper ran to Tony, hugging him tightly. Before he could even think to take a step away Handler had glomped him from behind.

                “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” she asked, snuggling up against his cape.

                “Only strictly platonically.” Victor replied.

                “Strictly platonically.” Handler nodded. “This calls for a celebration! Allow me!”

                Before anyone could protest she ran to the bar inside the mansion, where Tony kept the really, really good liquor.

                “I need me some top-shelf whisky J.A.R.V.I.S.! The kind that says ‘I told you you could play nice with others.’.”

                “I would suggest the Macallan Single Malt Craigallachie if you are celebrating the triumph.”

“Sweet Beans. Where’s it at?”

“Third shelf from the top, to the left.”

Handler stepped up on the stool, grabbed the bottle and two glasses, and ran out the door before the A.I. could protest. The terrace was littered with rubble and shrapnel. Namor was pouting and sitting on a pool chair with a bar towel pressed to the cut on his head Handler had given him.

She waved at Rhodey and Tony, but never stopped moving until she had popped up right next ot Victor.

 “To the Victor goes the spoils?” she could almost hear the eye-roll.

“Is that my Laphroaig, Handler?” Tony called from across the now shrapnel littered pool. Booze and cars, the two things Tony was super possessive about.

“Naw it ain’t your Lap Dance Egg or whatever! It’s something called McCall…Craggle…whatever it was it sounded like Destro’s family name and it came highly recommended,” she shouted back. “J.A.R.V.I.S. said I could have it blame him! Or blame yourself he’s your programming.”

“Nah. On the house,” Tony said with a wave of his hand. “Doom, take five and have a drink before S.H.I.E.L.D. gets here; you’ll have to give a statement, damn it, this was supposed to be relax --“Tony was cut off by Pepper’s fingers over his lips.

Handler beamed and pushed the glass into Doom’s hand, clinking her’s against it. “Cheers, hope you like it neat because I couldn’t find any lemons or nothin’.” she said before taking a swig.

“Precisely the way you’re not supposed to drink top-shelf whiskey.” Victor chastised.

“Hey what do I know?” Handler chuckled.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to show some Handler/Victor platonic here. This actually takes huge inspiration from chapter 6 of Change Your Mind, Change Your Life by LostMyMarbles.
> 
> I have NO idea if that auto-links or not. I mean, you can search it it's way good.


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